


by their rouge, now

by shirohyasha



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: M/M, just a lot of porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-29 19:12:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16270571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirohyasha/pseuds/shirohyasha
Summary: Ren can be unbelievably, unfairly sadistic when the mood strikes, and apparently, the mood has struck.“Hijirikawa,” he sing-songs. “Won’t you come here?”





	by their rouge, now

**Author's Note:**

> me finally reading the lyrics to baby! my strawberry!: oh. _oh._

Ren is in a _mood._

Not a bad one, though a bad one might be easier to deal with. No, Ren has a gleam in his eyes and a twitch in his hands that say he’s planning something that Masato is going to be feeling for weeks.

Ren can be unbelievably, unfairly sadistic when the mood strikes, and apparently, the mood has struck.

“Hijirikawa,” he sing-songs. “Won’t you come here?”

“You can come here, if you are that eager,” Masato says, admittedly petulantly.

They’re not in public, they’re in Masato’s room and the door is locked, which is why Ren has no compunctions about crossing the room and leaning down into Masato, draping himself over his back and wrapping his arms around his neck. Masato’s pen skids across his page and draws a thick black line through his words.

“Jinguji,” he starts, but Ren has already licked a stripe up his jaw and has his mouth on Masato’s ear.

“You sure you’d rather do this over here?” he asks, and then sets his teeth in Masato’s neck, not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough to be felt.

Masato is – well, he hadn’t been thinking about sex, but Ren is all over him and his voice is low and promises nasty, wonderful things if he just does as Ren asks, so he lets out a slow breath and puts his pen down.

“Good boy,” Ren says, like he’s a toddler or a dog, and Masato opens his mouth to argue only for Ren to shove three fingers in and press down on his tongue.

“Alright?” he asks, almost conversationally, and Masato can just about nod with Ren’s hand holding his jaw.

Ren lets go and shifts back, a little, and Masato stands up and moves around his chair. Ren doesn’t quite catch his hands as they move, fingers brushing past his own, and he walks backwards until his legs hit the side of Masato’s bed and he sits.

Ren is dressed as casually as he ever is, which means all his clothes are designer and he’s wearing more jewellery than Masato would know what to do with. Masato moves to stands between Ren’s open legs.

“You are a menace, Jinguji,” Masato tells him. Ren grabs the end of his tie and yanks, and Masato falls and just about gets his knees under him before he sends them both sprawling. His face ends up half a centimetre from Ren’s, and he sighs and leans in to kiss him.

It’s just a press of lips, gentle and delicate, and then Ren pulls away a little. “Is that so?” he asks, and reaches up a hand to thread his fingers through Masato’s hair. Masato adjusts himself so he’s not so at risk of falling off the bed, and only then lets Ren drag him in for a second, far messier kiss.

Ren kisses lazily, slowly, languidly moves his lips and curls his tongue against Masato’s. He drops his hands to Masato’s waist and Masato wraps his arms loosely around Ren’s neck, and for a long blissful moment Ren is quiet and everything is nice.

Then Ren pulls back, eyes sparking with amusement. “Isn’t this better than what we were doing?” he asks.

Masato sighs. “You were doing nothing useful,” he points out. “I was working.”

Ren looks up at him through lidded eyes. “I’ll have you know I consider time spent staring at you very well spent,” he says, voice a low purr, and Masato can’t decide whether to be horribly embarrassed or actually flattered by that. He flushes either way.

“A menace,” he repeats, and kisses Ren again. Ren laughs into his mouth.

Masato’s legs are going to cramp if he stays curled up like he is for too long, but Ren’s mouth is warm and soft beneath his and his hands are firm against his skin through his clothes, on his waist, over his back, beneath his thighs.

Ren stands up, taking Masato with him, and Masato locks his arms and legs around Ren like some kind of monkey and makes a noise of surprise.

“Guh!” he gasps, still into Ren’s mouth. Ren drops to his own knees and puts Masato on the floor, and pulls away to laugh at him.

“Alright?” he asks cheerfully, in the tone of voice he only uses when he’s being deliberately annoying.

“On the floor, Jinguji?” Masato asks acerbically.

Ren manages to make his shrug look elegant, even bent over Masato. “For now,” he says.

He puts his tongue back in Masato’s mouth and Masato gives into it, curls his hands in Ren’s stupid expensive scarf and kisses back. Ren’s hands drop to his belt and undo it with little fuss, and before Masato realises he’s gone he’s wrapped his lips around the head of Masato’s cock and is flicking his tongue over the slit.

He had thought Ren had been feeling particularly awful tonight, but maybe he was too early in his judgement – Ren’s mouth is hot and wet and he’s so very enthusiastic, bobbing his head and swallowing down as far as he can take. He swallows, messily, and his throat contracts around the head of Masato’s cock and Masato gasps loudly and digs his fingers into the carpet.

Ren’s hair is falling around his face so Masato can’t see his expression, but he can feel it when Ren laughs. It’s not a nice laugh, even muffled around his cock.

“Are you feeling noisy, Hijirikawa?” he asks, pulling back. Masato slumps back to the carpet. He hadn’t even realised he’d tensed up. “I don’t mind if you are.”

Masato turns his face to the side, so he doesn’t have to look Ren in the eyes while he flushes. In a moment Ren is hovering over him, locks his fingers under Masato’s chin and tilts his head so Masato has to look at him.

No, Ren is definitely out for blood tonight. Probably not actual blood. Hopefully not actual blood.

“You always look so good,” he murmurs, and doesn’t let go of Masato’s chin when he grinds his fully clothed crotch against Masato’s naked cock. Masato bites back a groan, of pain as well as pleasure, and manages a glare.

“Shut up,” he mutters. Ren grins, and then he’s gone and Masato is left staring blankly at the ceiling for a second before Ren’s mouth is back on his cock and it’s all he can do not to thrust up into him. Ren wraps a hand around the base of his cock, where his mouth isn’t, almost too tight but perfect instead, and his mouth is tight and hot and it’s all obscene, and for a long time everything is dizzying and arousing and he’s digging his nails into the carpet and biting his lips on any actual words that threaten to spill out of his mouth.

He can’t stop the sounds though, the little gasps and whispers he involuntarily makes and Ren doesn’t stop to tease him for every single noise he makes but he’s smug even with his mouth full. Masato doesn’t look at him, stares determinedly at the ceiling. Ren swirls his tongue over the head of his cock and his hips jerk, an automatic reaction he’s immediately embarrassed about, but Ren just takes it.

“Jinguji – I,” Masato gasps. Everything is burning, blinding, Ren’s mouth is on his cock and he can’t think past the aching need to come. Ren doesn’t relent, Ren starts moving faster. Masato knows he’d be saying nasty wonderful things if he could, knows he’d be whispering praise and filth into his ear if his mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, telling him to come.

“Ren,” Masato manages, the sound almost a sob, and comes. Ren pins his hips to the floor with harsh bruising hands and doesn’t take his mouth off of Masato’s cock, not when Masato comes and not while he lies there, panting, trying to recover, and not when Masato starts squirming in discomfort and whimpers in protest.

“Jinguji,” he says. “Stop – enough, please.”

Ren pulls back, slowly, so Masato has to watch, and Ren’s swollen darkened mouth slipping over the thin skin of his softening cock might be the most obscene thing he’s ever seen. He can’t help but flush at the sight.

“Come now, Masato,” he says. His voice is rough and unbearably smug, dripping with self-satisfaction. “No need to be so formal.”

Masato shuts his eyes. “Ren,” he concedes.

Ren hums, fairly happily, and leans in to suck a bruise into the inside of Masato’s thigh. It hurts, a little, but it’s less than painful than Ren’s mouth on his oversensitive cock had been so Masato doesn’t argue. He lies on the floor, which is starting to get uncomfortable, and when Ren shifts his attention to his other thigh, he barely starts.

“Ren,” he murmurs again, and reaches out to brush his hand over Ren’s hair. Ren doesn’t react to either thing, unless scraping his teeth over the red patch of skin he’d just created counted.

It stretches his neck a little, but if he lifts his head he can see Ren’s golden head bent between his thighs, hair falling to conceal his face from Masato. Masato watches him, patient.

Eventually, Ren looks up to meet his eyes, mouth no less swollen than it was before. “Take your clothes off,” he says, and settles back to watch. Masato reaches up to undo his tie.

“I’m not throwing them on the floor,” he says. “Let me up.”

Ren laughs. “So fussy,” he teases, but moves back. Masato stands up, and his briefs and slacks are around his thighs because Ren hadn’t bothered to remove them properly so he has to bend over to tug them down. Ren sits on the floor and watches.

Masato tries not to shy away under the scrutiny – he’s used to being looked at, but the way Ren looks at him something else again and far more embarrassing, and Ren is fully clothed and he’s not. He pulls his tie off and unbuttons his shirt, and moves to put his clothes with his laundry.

He’s already come, he’s already come and he can feel it, and the sore tender patches of skin that Ren has left between his thighs rub together with every step, and Ren’s eyes sparkle and burn as he watches him move around the discomfort.

Evidently, they’re not done.

Masato goes to sit on the bed. Ren actually has to move to keep watching him then, because he’d thrown Masato onto the floor _from_ the bed and he’s still sat to the side of it, and for a long moment they stare at each other, waiting.

Then Ren smiles easily and stands, nudges Masato’s legs apart easily and stands between them. “My turn,” he says. Masato sighs.

“You shouldn’t leave your clothes all over the floor,” he scolds, even as he reaches up to pull Ren’s scarf off. Ren grins.

“I’m not. You are,” he points out, and lifts his arms when Masato half-stands to pull his V-neck over his head. Masato, for a lack of anywhere else to put them, does drop both the scarf and the shirt on the floor.

Masato sits back down and undoes Ren’s belt, unbuttons his jeans and slides them down his legs as far as he can. Ren is half-hard in his underwear and his crotch is very close to Masato’s face, but he refuses to be intimidated and looks up at Ren through his bangs.

Ren puts a knee between Masato’s thighs and crowds in close, and Masato lies back obediently enough.

“You’re so highly strung,” Ren says, leaning in closer. “What would it take to make you relax? An orgasm clearly wasn’t enough.”

Masato’s face burns at that, but Ren is already kissing him so any protest is swallowed. Ren tastes like come, a little, but it’s faded enough that Masato doesn’t care enough to protest. It’s not like he isn’t used to the taste.

Ren still has half a dozen bracelets on, and his necklace, and all of them dig into Masato as Ren manhandles him up onto the pillows. He’s smiling faintly in a way that makes Masato’s skin prickle, and when he leans in to lick a wet stripe up Masato’s stomach Masato can’t help but flinch.

“You’re jumpy,” Ren laughs from where he’s crouched over Masato, in much the same way he was a few minutes ago. “Something wrong?”

Masato does not appreciate being messed with.

“Get on with it,” he grumbles, embarrassed. “I can tell you have something planned.”

Ren grins, Cheshire-cat-like. “You’re adorable when you try to act tough.”

Ren reaches a hand between them and presses it gently to Masato’s cock, which twitches. Masato shuts his eyes.

“Sadist,” he accuses.

Ren laughs. “Only sometimes,” he admits.

He jerks his hand a couple of times, forming a loose fist, and Masato can’t help but react to him. Masato will always react to him. He bites his lip on the moan that wants to escape and sinks back into the pillows, and Ren drops down onto him and kisses him slowly.

“Can I carry on?” Ren asks against his mouth.

“Yes.” Masato doesn’t open his eyes until Ren’s weight is gone from the bed. He’ll have gone for lube, and sure enough the tube is in his hands when Masato looks to him. There’s a click as he flips open the cap, and then he’s back on top of Masato and there are fingers against his ass, and Masato relaxes as best he can.

But then, he’s already come. His muscles are looser than they would be otherwise and Ren slides two fingers into him with relative ease, and presses them into his prostate immediately. Masato shudders.

He’s oversensitive and a little sore, but it does feel good and he’s half-hard already from Ren’s teasing. Ren slides another finger in, too much too fast, and Masato hisses.

“Ow,” he mumbles. Ren’s mouth curves into a half-smile and he slows down, a little, enough that when he scissors his fingers it’s a whimper that escapes, rather than a sound of pain. Masato reaches up and covers his face.

Ren spreads his fingers again and rubs his thumb over his rim, as if trying to startle another moan out of him, but Masato refuses to give him the satisfaction and bites his tongue. Ren leans over and mouths at his cock, teasing little kitten licks that have Masato twitching and jumpy. He curls his fingers into Masato’s prostate, takes the head of his cock into his mouth and hums.

Masato jerks, fists his hands in the bedsheets.

“Tease,” he hisses, wishing he could be annoyed. Ren wraps his free hand around the base of Masato’s cock, fingers damp with lube, and lets Masato’s cock fall out of his mouth.

“Thank you,” Ren drawls, draws his hand up to rubs his thumb over the head of Masato’s cock. He grins up at Masato, the expression filthy. “You know I like to hear you.”

Masato has a full half-second to be horribly embarrassed before Ren swallows as much of his cock as he can and hums loudly. He can’t stop the cry that escapes at that, and Ren pulls back to smirk. “You’re so obliging,” he says, and does it again. Masato almost bites through his lip trying to stop the noises escaping but it doesn’t quite work, and he ends up making a series of choked off little sounds.

Ren pulls his fingers out and Masato gasps at the loss, reaching down mindlessly as if to catch Ren’s hands and push his fingers back into him, but Ren is already moving. He leans in to lick him, drags his tongue over the sensitive skin there.

“Ren,” Masato gasps, grabbing at his hair. Ren laughs and pulls away.

“Stay there,” Ren says. “I’m enjoying this.”

He flicks his tongue into Masato’s ass, laves at the skin there, presses it in as far as it’ll go, sending sparks through Masato and tearing a wretched noise from his throat. Masato presses the heel of his free hand into the bridge of his nose.

“Sadist,” he says again once he can find his voce. Ren laughs and pulls back.

“I can’t help myself with you,” he murmurs. “All stiff and proper, coming undone so pretty. Anyone would want to be mean to you.”

Masato _wants_ to argue with that, but can’t find anything to say. “Shut up,” he mumbles. “Shut _up._ ”

Ren laughs again, and wraps a hand around his own cock, wiping the remnants of the lube onto himself. Masato shudders when he moves and shudders again when he moves back in.

“Ready?” he asks. Masato pulls him in closer and kisses him desperately, on the verge of begging. Ren doesn’t kiss like he’s got much patience left either, and drags himself back after a moment.

“Ren, come on, _Ren_ ,” Masato says. He’ll be embarrassed at how wrecked he already sounds later, but for now Ren is heavy and hot above him and pride is less important than that.

“Masato,” Ren breathes back and, slowly, torturously slowly, pushes himself into Masato. Masato digs his nails into Ren’s back and forces his breathing back under control. It’s not comfortable and he’s reminded of his previous orgasm and the bruises Ren had left, but Ren moves slowly enough that it’s bearable.

Ren pauses once his hips are flush against Masato’s ass, red high on his cheeks. He almost looks as wrecked as Masato feels.

Ren pulls out a little, rolls his hips, and this part always feels weird, even after being prepared, even after taking Ren’s fingers and tongue it’s still strange to be split open and laid raw.

Ren pushes back into him and must catch something, because sparks fire up his spine and he groans. “I’m okay, I’m okay, Ren, hurry up, move.”

Language beyond that is more than he can manage but it doesn’t matter because Ren probably wouldn’t bother parsing through anything more complicated anyway. Masato drags Ren in closer and wraps a leg around Ren’s waist, and Ren braces himself against the mattress and starts moving his hips properly.

The first thrust is painful but the second has him seeing stars, and Ren is clearly done holding back now that Masato has asked for it, and he takes one of Masato’s hands and wraps it around Masato’s cock.

“Like this,” he manages, and Masato nods, and then they’re both beyond words. Ren pulls back and grabs his hips and finds something of a rhythm, and Masato writhes against him desperately and jerks his hand around his cock as tightly as he can bear, and for a long moment everything is Ren and everything burns.

Masato comes over his stomach strokes himself through orgasm despite how sensitive he is, and Ren doesn’t stop fucking him, and Masato shudders through the aftershocks.

He isn’t given a moment to recover; Ren doesn’t stop moving and Masato groans, cries out, unable to bite back every sound he wants to make. “You are cruel,” he manages between breaths.

Ren catches his eye and laughs, strained, and Masato pulls him in close and forces himself to rise to meet Ren’s thrusts, and it does hurt but Ren starts to fall apart above him, shudders running through him. He speeds up, violently, and Masato can’t help but shout as Ren fucks into him for a few long, torturous seconds until he’s finished, and collapses onto him. He buries his face in Masato’s shoulder and gasps weakly, and Masato slumps beneath him.

He counts five slow, controlled breaths from Ren before he sits up and pulls back. “Holy shit,” Ren mumbles. Masato is inclined to agree.

Ren pulls out of him, messily, and before Masato can do more than grimace he’s pressed a kiss to the side of Masato’s mouth and climbed off the bed. “Hang on,” Ren says, and staggers to the bathroom. Masato hears a tap running and then Ren is back with a damp cloth, and Masato parts his legs so Ren can wipe him clean.

“I need a shower,” Masato says, absently. Ren snorts.

“I don’t think I could stand long enough to shower,” he admits, and vanishes back into the bathroom. Masato shivers a little and wriggles so he can pull the duvet free, and burrows under it so he’s entirely covered.

“You’re so cute,” Ren says, and there’s a moment of cold air and then Ren’s warmth presses up to his side and he wraps long, grabby arms around Masato.

“You are a violent sadist,” Masato tells him. “I will struggle to walk for weeks.”

Ren laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he says. “But that would be pretty hot.”

Masato tries to turn his back, but Ren has too tight a grip on him and the best he can manage is an irritated wriggle. “Do you never get tired of being so ridiculous?”

“Nope.” Ren pops the p right next to Masato’s ear. “If you’re struggling to walk, I guess you’ll have to stay in bed,” Ren says. “Nothing to do there but wait for me.”

Masato shudders. “That would hardly make the problem go away,” he points out. “I would have to spend an extended period of time without you to recover.”

Ren makes an obscene little sound that Masato assumes he learned from a pornographic film. “But if you can’t walk, you certainly can’t run away. I quite like the idea of keeping you in bed for a week.”

“That would be impractical,” Masato points out. “I would have to eat in the bed. By the end of the first day I would need a shower.”

“By the end of the first _hour_ ,” Ren promises, but he's laughing now. “Guess I’ll have to come up with some other fantasy then.”

“See that you do,” Masato says primly. “I have no doubt you will, and that you will inform me as soon as you do.”

“Aw babe, you know me so well,” Ren says cheerfully, and nuzzles in so his hair falls all over Masato’s face. Masato spits indignantly.

“Jinguji!” he snaps. “Behave.”

Ren tosses his hair so it all falls behind him, out of Masato’s face. “You really are good to me,” he murmurs. “Thank you, Masato.”

“Don’t you forget it,” Masato mutters, face burning. He manages to shift enough to thread his fingers through Ren’s where they’re curled around his arms. “You are welcome.”

“So proper,” Ren sighs, apparently mostly asleep already. Masato listens to his breathing soften and slow, long heavy breaths shifting his ribcage beside him.

“Goodnight, Ren,” he says quietly. Ren doesn’t reply, but he does nudge in closer.

**Author's Note:**

> im like a dragon but instead of gold i hoard utapri fic


End file.
